


an early epilogue

by adenophora



Series: the shadows that follow you [3]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, ryan centric, shane sees ghosts au, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 14:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12960972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adenophora/pseuds/adenophora
Summary: Ryan and Shane talk about the shadows on the wall. But maybe there's something underneath everything they're not saying.





	an early epilogue

**Author's Note:**

> As part of a [series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/851025) with two previous installments, I'd strongly recommend reading those first before this one. 
> 
> I would put this work as about a month or so after the oldest precipice, timeline wise.

More than through the privilege of having Shane tell Ryan himself, Ryan begins to piece together Shane’s anomalies through a constant watch, one eye trained on Shane at all times at the hopes of discovery, a piece of the puzzle otherwise uneasily found.

There’s little things—moments that Ryan had picked up before but had no frame of reference for understanding. Now, Ryan watches Shane stare at the space in front of him, a familiar look of deep concentration that appears to be anything but, and knows that something possibly lurks beyond. Something more than Ryan himself can perceive.

More than that, in Ryan’s head, Shane’s mysteries begin to fall together, reveal themselves as less potent than Shane’s biggest secret of all, so unwillingly given away—the slight relax of shoulders when he settles into the passenger seat, Shane’s hunched frame at the chill in a room; all the things Ryan couldn’t account for before he now tucks away in the back of his head.

These are Shane’s ghosts. These are Shane’s burdens.

Ryan feels the need to guard this new knowledge, protect it for fear of anyone else coming too close. He’s scratched the surface of Shane’s hidden self, and now he’s loath to have anyone else catch its glaring reflection.

He’s always felt the desire to keep Shane close—to hold Shane to himself, wrap him in Ryan’s arms and attempt to hide his frame from anyone else. Discovering Shane felt like an anomaly, Ryan’s once in a lifetime chance, and he coveted the thought even in his moments of inaction. 

This, however, is different; an instinct, at his most base level, the shield Shane from the rejection he silently fears.

It’s these thoughts that lull Ryan into a troubled sleep, pressed fully into Shane’s side with their legs stacked together in a messy twine. Ryan knows he clings to Shane, physically and otherwise, but he can’t help it. He’ll put himself on the line, be as desperate as it requires, if only to keep this.

When Ryan awakens alone in the middle of the night, the indent of Shane’s frame still visible in the mattress, he thinks perhaps these errant worries are what startled him from sleep itself as well. Some subconscious desire, in his very nature, to seek out Shane, even in his dreams.

The thought almost makes Ryan feel pathetic, clingy and overbearing, despite all the confessions and stolen moments that now bind them together. But Ryan pushes the concern away, intent to focus on more important matters. He stretches his arm across the mattress, feeling at the dent that Shane left, and is relieved to feel the warmth of leftover body heat.

Shane hasn’t been up for too long, then.

Ryan sits up in bed, stretching briefly before his eye catches a slight movement on the wall. It’s something he knows he’s noticed before, long before there was anything even to suspect, but would have been previously unwilling to bring up. He’s not sure where he stands now.

Shane the skeptic would have laughed at the idea of spirits in his own home, lining the walls and keeping watch over him. The Shane Ryan knows now would guard such information, intent on letting Ryan know just the outlines of the truth without giving any further. It’s a new form of a give-and-take between them, evolved beyond skeptic and believer into half steps pushed forward and similarly hasty retreats.

Shane’s cracked the door open for Ryan to peer through, but seems weary of allowing him fully inside. But Ryan reaches his hand through the door’s crack, some immeasurable distance between Shane and the rest of the world, if only to find Shane’s own hand to press their palms together.

That unspoken distance leads to nights like this, when Shane has drifted out of bed on his own, lost in his head or maybe on another plane entirely. It’s all Ryan can to do coax Shane back to bed, hoping their shared breaths can lull Shane back to sleep. It’s the barest comfort, but it’s all Ryan has at the arm’s length Shane unwittingly holds him at.

Ryan shivers involuntarily as he crawls out of bed, and he considers briefly taking the comforter with him, perhaps curling around Shane wherever he finds him. Some nights, it’s the easiest option. They’ll huddle together in some corner of the house, and Shane will breathe an unvoiced thanks against Ryan’s neck that he understands all the same. 

Some days, Ryan feels as though they’re beyond words—one shared look allows for communication between them in its purest form. Tonight, however, Ryan feels their distance deeply, aware of how words could bridge gaps between them so as to bring Shane back to bed entirely, to allow him something close to a full night’s rest.

Ryan knows he’s caught Shane early in one of his bad nights, and he’s determined to bring Shane back to him, to wrap himself around Shane and give him the warmth he needs until his eyes lose their glassy stare and his breathing returns to normal.

He creeps out of the room quietly, attempting to keep from startling Shane wherever he happens to be in the house. Ryan checks the kitchen first, as he often finds Shane at the kitchen table, staring at a full glass of water and waiting for it to move.

Instead, Ryan comes across Shane sitting on the couch, staring intently at the seat opposite of him. This is a common position for Shane too, though he’s always reluctant to share with Ryan exact what he’s staring at.

The couch across Shane appears empty to Ryan, and Ryan imagines it always will, despite Shane’s unspoken hopes. But on nights like these, Ryan suspects Shane is staring at nothing as well, concentrating on the bare seat in the hopes that something will eventually appear.

Gently, so as not to startle Shane, Ryan drapes his arms across Shane’s shoulder, before eventually resting his entire weight against Shane’s back. It’s another unspoken desire of Shane’s, his craving for contact, and Ryan can feel his subtle relaxation at the touch. Shane slowly comes out of whatever trance the other couch holds him in.

“Shane,” Ryan says softly, rubbing his hands gently down Shane’s arms and burying his nose in Shane’s neck. “Come on, Shane. Let’s go back to bed.”

Shane nods in agreement, but remains quiet. He stands slowly, the movements more graceful than Ryan has come to expect from Shane and his gangly posture, before Shane slumps against him in exhaustion, allowing for Ryan to lead Shane down the hallway and towards the bedroom.   

Back in Shane’s room, Ryan half-guides Shane back onto the bed, allowing gravity to do most of the work. He then crawls up from the foot of the mattress, tangling his and Shane’s legs together as he comes to rest across Shane’s chest.

He shoves his nose back in the crook of Shane’s neck, and takes comfort in the closeness himself. Ryan rarely hesitates with his affection, even before he and Shane grew into their current relationship, intertwining themselves together to the point where there was no room left. But now, he lavishes in it, basking himself in Shane presence and taking advantage of the contact that Ryan knows is not only allowed, but silently encouraged.

“Do you know…” Ryan begins hesitantly, knowing there’s a talk that needs to be had, but caught by his desire for Shane to sleep. He didn’t realize how often Shane spent the night restlessly before. But Ryan presses forward, circling around the heart of the issue to stab at an outer vein. “Do you know your shadows move across the wall?" 

Shane stills for a moment under him, and Ryan almost regrets bringing it up. But there’s a reason under all this, and maybe even an argument, and Ryan is so tired of Shane avoiding his eyes.

“All shadows do that, Ryan,” Shane eventually replies, and he sounds tired. His eyes are still closed, and Ryan wishes he would open them, even if only briefly. He needs to see what Shane isn’t saying. “That’s kinda their deal. They’re shadows.”

“Shane.” Ryan says his name like a sigh, and he lets his frustrations out in his breath rather than voice them aloud.

Shane doesn’t reply, but he tilts his head toward Ryan, opening his eyes and letting their gazes meet. Shane likes to tell Ryan he’s an open book, but Ryan knows Shane is probably worse—he lets his eyes reveal everything he’s feeling, and Ryan can see reluctance in the reflection against brown irises, but Ryan is determined to get past it this time.

“You know,” Ryan starts, and he lets all the urgency leave his voice. He settles back against Shane and lets his words fill the space between them, and even in Shane’s reluctance, he feels Shane begin to again relax against him too. “Back when we were interns, when I first met you, I was so pissed at myself. Here was the giant, gangly asshole, and I had never been more attracted to another person in my life.”

Shane laughed softly against him, content to listen without saying anything. Ryan knows Shane sometimes just likes to hear him talk. It’s one of the few secrets he’s relinquished unprompted to Ryan, that his voice sounded different than all the spirits he constantly hears. That it grounds Shane when he thinks he’s floating off.

“I already believed in ghosts, Shane,” Ryan continues, bringing up his hand so he could card it through Shane’s hair. Ryan then presses a kiss against Shane’s neck, feather light but no less meaningful for it. Ryan know these moments mean everything; it’s how he inches closer still, approaching the cracked door and widening it even if only slightly. He keeps talking, “But you made me believe in fate. Part of me knew, if I waited long enough, if I kept you close, one day I’d have you. Just like this. Some days it felt like everything I wanted. The only thing I wanted.”

Ryan trails off, but continues his ministrations with Shane’s hair. Shane remains silent for a moment, but Ryan can hear him thinking, and he knows if he waits long enough, Shane will relent and share something more than he meant when first crawled out of bed earlier tonight. 

“You’ve never told me that before. Any of that,” Shane finally replies, and he’s staring at Ryan curiously, as though he’s seeing something new for the first time. Shane’s eyes penetrate something painful hidden deep in Ryan’s chest; he knows there’s an unspoken skepticism under Shane’s wonder, something unvoiced that weighs down the air itself, another kind of phantom to haunt the room.

“I never thought I had to before. I though you just knew,” Ryan can hear himself growing quieter as it becomes harder to give these admissions himself. Shane isn’t alone in his desire to keep some things closer to himself, hidden for fear of rejection. He plunges forward, propelled by a feeling too large to name out loud. “I thought you understood how much this means to me, too.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Shane finally admits, and Ryan tightens his arms around Shane’s frame at the fine tremble in Shane’s voice. “I don’t know when too much will scare you off. I thought telling you would make things easier, and it did. But it’s still hard.”

Ryan lets out a breath, long and slow. He feels like laughing, but only because it isn’t actually funny.

“The shadows…” Shane continues, cutting off Ryan’s attempts to formulate a reply. He sounds somewhere between hesitant and determined, pushing forward despite all instincts telling him to do otherwise. “I don’t—I’m not sure… They used to be ghosts, maybe. Or maybe they’re something else entirely. I’m not—I try not to look at them.”

“Why?” Ryan presses and hates himself for it. But Shane seems to have found the meaning under Ryan’s question and wants to answer it on the terms it was asked. They can give each other this—this small moment between sleepless nights and restless hotel rooms.

“You just—you just see shadows. But there’s more. Ugly details. And maybe they want something. I really don’t know. I don’t want to know,” Shane replies, trailing off his words with an exhale. “Talking about all this still feels surreal. I’ve never put it to words, and now I don’t know how.”

Ryan lets out a quick breath, an act of comedy but devoid of humor itself. He moves his hand down to trace the slant of Shane’s brow, the curve of his cheek.

“I promise you, I’m not any better,” Ryan says, and feels his cheek acutely against Shane’s collarbone. A slight chill runs through him, and Ryan can’t account for how Shane’s always felt slightly cold to the touch, as though he runs just a few degrees lower than standard. “But it’s okay, Shane. It’s okay to talk to me. I’m not running away. I don’t want to.”

Ryan props himself up on his elbow, tilting his frame and forcing Shane to stare at him fully, to notice when Ryan’s lips curve up into the barest trace of a smile, something tired but overtly genuine. It’s all Ryan has to offer—it’s all he’s ever had to offer—himself at his barest form. “I told you. I just want you.”

Shane leans up himself, bringing a palm to rest against Ryan’s cheek while tilting their foreheads to press together. Shane doesn’t otherwise reply, but Ryan feels that connection again, something beyond words, innate and instinctual.

He isn’t sure who presses forward, but soon Ryan feels the gentlest pressure of Shane’s lips against his, another form of communication, their simplest kind. It makes something ache in Ryan, these perfect moments in between their nightmares and storms. 

They pull apart, still not speaking, and Ryan thinks perhaps they’ve both said enough for tonight. As they settle back together on the bed, Ryan again curled around Shane’s lanky form, he notices out of the corner of his eye something furtive moving quickly along the wall.

Ryan watches the shadow shuffle along toward the door before somehow slipping out the room to haunt other parts of the apartment. He shuts his eyes and feels content. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to take a moment to address all the wonderful things you all have said about the previous works in this series. Beginning with a moment in the rough, my primary goal had been to create something that captured the inherent warmth that I felt radiates through Shane and Ryan's friendship, while also ultimately respecting them as real people with real internal lives, even if I wasn't replicating those lives exactly. Above anything, I hope this shines through in my work. 
> 
> You've all truly been a blessing and so kind, and so I just again want to show all the gratitude I have to offer. Truly, this has all been a pleasure and a wonderfully gratifying experience. 
> 
> That being said, I intend (at least for now) for this to act as the final work in this series. There are many questions this series could evoke and answer, but I primarily intended the work as an emotional journey for Shane and Ryan, and I believe that journey is complete. 
> 
> Again, thanks so much to everyone who has read and enjoyed these fics.


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